


Endeavors in romantic letter writing

by peculiairyties (ItsAiryBro)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Falling In Love, M/M, Slow Burn, Violet Evergarden AU, but there's some amount of angst, i tried to make this warm and fluffy, jealous Kuroo, letter writing, so a mishmash of Victorian/steampunk elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAiryBro/pseuds/peculiairyties
Summary: As an Auto Memories Doll, Kuroo has written letters for many people for many reasons with little difficulty. When he's assigned to write letters for the Marquess of Karasuno, he faces his first real challenge: not the letters themselves, but his stubborn client.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Comments: 28
Kudos: 86





	Endeavors in romantic letter writing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Finnthebunneh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finnthebunneh/gifts).



> HELLO FINN I'M UR SANTA HO HO HO /cough wheeze  
> Thank you for blessing us with a steady stream of KuroDai! I'm glad to have met you over the last year because I now know that the person behind the art is just as lovely as the art itself :)  
> I hope you like it, I tried my best but I feel like, as it usually does, things kinda went off the rails and I just kinda hung on?
> 
> For anyone reading that's not familiar with Violet Evergarden: Auto Memories Dolls are humans (women, mostly) that are hired as ghostwriters. This particular story is based off Episode 5 of the anime. I played fast and loose with the universe and noble etiquette, so if there's anything jarring just ignore it ;v;

####  _Arrival_

_Karasuno March is beautiful, but the Marquess even more so._

-

When Kuroo arrives at the manor gates with his letter of appointment, he is immediately ushered inside by an energetic man with a wide grin and sparkling eyes. The staff that bustle around call out polite greetings in varying decibels, and Kuroo can tell from the camaraderie between them that they were all at least friendly with each other, if not actual friends. 

His escort, after having introduced himself simply as “Noya”, chatters enthusiastically about the estate and their lands as they walk down hallways lined with windows on one wall and tapestries and paintings on another, pointing out where the kitchens are, where the dining rooms are, as well as the other areas of the house that Kuroo was welcome to use, before finally leading him to an ornately carved wooden door.

“You’ll meet Lord Sawamura in here,” he says, and knocks sharply but doesn’t open the door. “You can leave your suitcases here, and I’ll have them moved to your quarters. You will not be expected to start work right away, so once you’re done with your meeting, one of the pages will take you to your room and then fetch you for dinner. If you need anything before then, just let Lord Sawamura know, or ask the page.”

Kuroo nods and smiles a practiced and pleasant expression, not letting his nerves show. He’s a seasoned Auto Memories Doll, but so far he’s mostly worked with common folk, writing letters to their loved ones who are also common folk. This is the first time he’s been assigned a client who is nobility. “Thank you very much for showing me around. Do I go in now, or do I wait till I am called?”

“He’s not seeing anyone right now so you can go on in. I’ll see you later, Mr. Kuroo!” 

Before Kuroo can say much else, the man is off, tossing an energetic wave and a smile over his shoulder before he turns a corner. 

Kuroo takes a deep breath. Nobility or not, Sawamura Daichi is human just like him, and more importantly, he needs his help. Kuroo has dealt with plenty of middle-aged men in his life, and he’s sure this man will be no different. Once he’s centered again, he retrieves his notebook and pencil from his bag and pushes both his bag and suitcase flush against the wall, out of the way. 

He knocks once again and turns the doorknob. It opens into a warmly lit room with rows and rows of bookshelves, lined from top to bottom with an impressive array of books. At the back of the room, set against a wall with large windows, is a beautiful oak desk holding neat stacks of paper and more books, and an elegant inkwell and quill stand.

Sitting behind the large desk is a man with a head full of neatly trimmed, thick black hair. When he finally looks up from the book he’s poring over, their gazes meet, and Kuroo feels like he’s been pierced through the heart.

The man is absolutely _not_ middle-aged, but he is _incredibly_ handsome, with a strong jaw and beautiful brown eyes and a keen, serious stare, and then—then the man _smiles_ at him warmly and it transforms him from imperious nobleman to a person wanting to impress a sweetheart, and Kuroo is truly at a loss how to proceed now that all his preconceptions have been tossed out the window.

“Hello,” the man—very obviously the Marquess judging from the smart cut of his clothes and the crest on his cravat—rises from his chair and extends his hand. “I’m Daichi Sawamura, Marquess of Karasuno. I take it you’re the Doll from the Postal Company?”

“I-Yes, Lord Sawamura, a pleasure,” Kuroo manages, and shakes the Lord’s hand, keeping his grip gentle. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, Auto Memories Doll. Thank you very much for choosing Nekomata Postal Service, sir. We are pleased to have your business.”

“Thank you for traveling all the way out here, Mr. Kuroo.” Sawamura sits back down, and moves some of his papers aside so he can place his clasped hands on the table. “I know Karasuno March is quite far from Nekoma City. I hope your journey here was not too difficult.”

“Please, it’s no trouble. A Doll’s job is to travel wherever our services are required, and we take pride in that.” He grins. “The trip here was quite scenic. The surrounding lands are beautiful.”

The Marquess nods and smiles. “I’m glad to hear that. Since you must be quite tired after your trip, shall we finish talking business so you can retire to your room to settle in?”

Kuroo’s smile widens and he opens his book to where he’d scribbled down details about Lord Sawamura’s request. “Thank you for your consideration, sir. According to your request, you enlisted our services to help you write letters to Lord Iwaizumi of Aoba Johsai as part of your courtship, is that right?” 

The lord, to Kuroo’s surprise and internal delight, goes quite a bit pink at the mention of the courtship. “Yes, that is correct.”

“I have a question, if I may?”

“Please go ahead.”

“Pardon me if this is impudent, but you very obviously know how to read and write,” Kuro says, gesturing around them. “Why did you recruit the postal company?

The Marquess smiles bashfully, and Kuroo is once again struck by how sweet he looks when he smiles. “I do know how to read and write, yes,” he says, and looks away to the side. “But writing reports and official correspondence about agriculture and taxes are not like writing a- a love letter.” He looks back at Kuroo again, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. “Lord Iwaizumi and I— we were childhood friends, and we were unofficially betrothed just before the war started, but we did not get the chance to interact much, given how busy the both of us were with our positions. Now that the war is done, his parents would like to see him wed, since they are getting on in age. But we are practically strangers now. It felt odd to the both of us to marry without getting to know each other a little bit better, so I suggested this courtship.”

Kuroo nods, feeling fondness well in this chest at the thought of the two lords wanting to take the time to woo each other.

“And then I tried to write a love letter, and I realized I didn’t even know where to start!” The Marquess chuckles and self consciously touches the bridge of his nose. “I know when to ask for help when I need it, however, so I reached out to you folk. I want to do this the right way, I want to do a good job with the letters, I want him to feel _courted_ ,” he says, smiling, and it’s immediately apparent the smile is for the person he’s thinking about, the person Kuroo was hired to write letters to.

It’s utterly adorable. Kuroo always likes his clients, and he loves being able to help them put their emotions and thoughts down on paper so they can be sent off to be read and cherished. But this one—the mere sight of his smile fills Kuroo with determination to help him court Lord Iwaizumi of Aoba Johsai right off his feet and onto the marriage altar.

“Well I can certainly help you with that,” he says, smiling proudly. “Love letters are my specialty. We are going to make Lord Iwaizumi feel courted, alright. He’ll be begging you to marry him.”

Sawamura grins at him. “That is reassuring to hear, thank you, Mr. Kuroo.”

“Please, just Kuroo is fine,” he says, and stands. “When do we start?”

“You can meet me here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll let Noya know to fetch you so you don’t get lost.”

Kuroo chuckles. “I appreciate that. Thank you for your time, Lord Sawamura.”

“Have a restful evening, Kuroo.”

Kuroo bows slightly before he turns and exits the room, already thinking about what kind of style will suit the Marquess.

When he steps out of the room, a young man wearing the livery of the house straightens from where he’s leaning against the wall. “Mr. Kuroo?”

Kuroo nods and smiles, noting his bags have been moved already. “That’s me! You can just call me Kuroo.”

“I’m Hinata Shouyou!” The lad chirps with a smile as brilliant as his orange hair. “I’m a page! Mr. Nishinoya sent me to take you to your room.”

“Thank you very much, Hinata.” Kuroo grins at him and suppresses the urge to ruffle Hinata’s fluffy looking hair. “The Marquess seems like a very nice man,” he says, not so subtly inviting the boy to talk about his employer in the hopes of getting some inside knowledge.

Hinata nods excitedly, seemingly not even realizing what Kuroo was doing. “Oh yes! He pays everyone handsomely and he’s a really kind person. He’s scary when he’s angry though,” he says, and shudders, as if he was thinking about it. “But he doesn’t get angry without reason, so if you’re worried about that you shouldn’t be!”

“Oh, is that so,” he replies mildly, but that’s enough for Hinata to launch into excited rambling about the rest of the residents in the manor and his friend Kageyama who set fire to the pot when he tried to boil some milk last week.

Kuroo listens and makes acknowledgements as he walks along the long hallways till they finally reach his room in the guest quarters in the west wing.

Hinata bids him farewell, and Kuroo enters to find a neat room decorated with some small knickknacks and beautifully embroidered tapestries depicting farm life. His bags are placed at the foot of his bed. It’s a very nice room, and Kuroo can’t help but think it’s quite fitting that the manor was almost a reflection of the Marquess himself.

Even from their brief meeting, Kuroo can see that the Marquess is a forthright man, and based off what Hinata had told him, wasn’t one to suffer fools lightly. 

Flowery, long-winded letters were out of the question, then.

But that just meant the letters would be a little short, and they would be _sincere_. 

Kuroo fiddled with the Doll certification pin on his lapel, absently running his fingers along the small metal wings again and again. This Lord Iwaizumi was a lucky man, and Kuroo was lucky too, to be part of their story.

-

####  _Missive_

_Love letters are a part of the soul, mixed with ink, given physical form._

-

Kuroo’s at Lord Sawamura’s office at the designated time, stuffed after a wonderful meal of stew and fragrant bread. Noya—who was one of the footmen, he’d learned from the sweet housemaid who had come in to make his bed linens—had wanted to have him eat in the great dining hall as he was a guest, but Kuroo had insisted that he was more than happy to eat with them.

So he’d had lunch in the bustling servants’ quarters, surrounded by people who had barely met him but immediately embraced him as one of their own. It had been wonderful, but in his good cheer he’d ended up eating more than he should have.

He groans softly and adjusts his grip on his bag before he raises his hand to knock.

“Come in!” A baritone voice beckons, and Kuroo opens the door.

The Marquess is at his desk again, dressed in a fashion simpler than the day previous. The sharp tailoring accentuates his broad shoulders, and Kuroo thinks they’re very nice shoulders, perfect for a man of his station.

“Hello again, Kuroo,” Lord Sawamura says, and Kuroo smiles, walking up to take his hand again. “How did you find your accommodations at the manor?”

“The room was lovely and the food even more so. Your staff were very hospitable too. Thank you for treating me so kindly.”

“Of course,” the Marquess replies, expression pleased. “I’m very glad to hear everything is to your tastes.”

The desk on Kuroo’s side has been cleared of things, save for a small stack of blank papers and an inkwell with a quill.

Kuroo carefully moves them to the side and sets up his typewriter on the newly created space. The Marquess watches quietly as Kuroo loads paper into it and adjusts the ink ribbons.

Once everything is fixed, Kuroo cracks the knuckles on his left hand. “Alright, so,” he says, resting his fingers on the keys. “What do you want to tell Lord Iwaizumi?”

Sawamura blinks. “What do you mean?”

Kuroo tries not to smirk. “Well, we’re writing a letter, and letters usually contain a message,” he says, knowing full well he’s being a bit cheeky. “So, Lord Sawamura, what is your message?”

The Marquess gives him a little bit of a stink eye but makes no further comment on his attitude. “Well, I don’t know, which is why I hired you. I don’t know what sort of message these types of- of courtship letters have. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Kuroo hums in thought. “I suppose that’s fair enough. How about we approach this differently: tell me how you would write a letter to Lord Iwaizumi if you wanted to ask after his well being?”

The Marquess steeples his fingers and rests his chin on them, brows furrowed in concentration. After a few moments of silence, he speaks. “My Lord Marquess—”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“This man is the one you intend to marry, is he not?”

“Yes?”

“Then why are you being so formal? You are courting him, not writing to him about troubles at the border.”

The Marquess looks at him incredulously, and Kuroo isn’t sure if it’s because of his disrespect or because it never occurred to the man to address his future fiance as anything else.

When he frowns disapprovingly at him, Kuroo thinks it might have been the impudent talk.

“Alright then,” Lord Sawamura huffs. “Dear Lord Iwaizumi— _Why_ are you looking at me like that? I will not address him by his name, he might take offence!”

Kuroo sighs but lets the Marquess have his way. For now. “Alright, I suppose that’s fair for the first letter. Now, what next?”

“I hope this letter finds you well,” he says, frowning slightly as he looks at Kuroo.

Kuroo nods and types that down. Lord Sawamura lets out the smallest relieved sigh, and Kuroo purses his lips to keep from smiling. 

“How has Aoba Johsai been fari—”

“Stop!” Kuroo covers his face with his hands for a second before he looks up. “Why are you asking him about his lands?”

He looks genuinely confused. “Shoud… Should I not?”

Kuroo is overcome with a mixture of emotions. Disbelief is up there. So is confusion. There’s also a great deal of exasperation, but it makes Kuroo feel incredibly fond.

“You should be asking about him and his life, not his politics.”

“But his politics are undoubtedly a very big part of his life. I don’t see why it’s inappropriate to ask about them.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “That may be, but this is a courtship. The _first_ letter in a courtship. It’s best to keep it pleasant and cheerful, which, let’s be honest, political affairs seldom are. If you ask this and receive a response that hints at any trouble, you will be left with no choice but to address it. Then your ‘courtship’ will just turn into political strategy correspondence. Is that what you want, Lord Sawamura?”

The Marquess considers this for a moment, and Kuroo can see the expressions flit across his face as he works Kuroo’s words out and finally comes to the conclusion that Kuroo is right.

“I… I suppose that makes sense.”

“See? I’m the expert letter writer between us, Lord Sawamura. Trust in me, I won’t let you lead this love story astray.”

Lord Sawamura bursts into surprised laughter at that, and it’s a bright, merry sound that could chase away rain clouds. Kuroo grins back at him. 

“Well I’m glad that one of us knows what we’re doing.”

“You did pay for one of the best Dolls at Nekomata Postal Company, sir. I don’t know why you’re so surprised.”

The Marquess rests his cheek on his hand and looks at Kuroo with a smirk. “If I told you, would you return the favor and excuse my audacity like I have been excusing yours all this afternoon?”

Now it’s Kuroo’s turn to laugh, but he manages to keep it subdued instead of cackling as he usually did in front of his friends. “It would only be fair.”

“Your… unconventional appearance didn’t particularly inspire my confidence in your abilities.”

Kuroo shrugs, easily accepting the comment. Most people wouldn't look at his heeled boots, high waisted lace-up pants and bright red neckerchief and think he was a professional writer. “Ah, yes, I don’t look very much like a Doll, much less one that writes romantic letters. But now that you’ve actually seen me work, what do you think? Am I worthy of being your scribe, Lord Sawamura, Marquess of Karasuno?”

The Marquess chuckles. “So far your ‘work’ has simply been saying ‘stop’ every time I open my mouth, so I’ll reserve my judgment until this draft is completed.”

Kuroo smirks and pulls his gloves to adjust them. “Alright then my lord, let’s get this letter written. The sooner we finish the sooner you can tell me just how happy you are that you hired me.”

“I suppose we shall see!”

-

It takes them three hours to finish the letter between their bickering, but at the end they have a sweet letter that the Marquess is very happy with.

He does, at the end, say “I am happy that I sought out Nekomata postal company” which isn’t exactly what Kuroo wants, but the jaunty little half-smile on Sawamura’s face makes it very clear that he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“I’ll make you say the words one day, my lord,” he teases, neatly packing his typewriter in his bag. It’s late enough that he’s going to go straight to the servants’ hall for dinner after putting his things away in his room, and the thought of food makes his stomach rumble.

“Please eat dinner first,” Sawamura retorts, folding the letter and putting it in an envelope before sealing it closed with wax and the Sawamura family crest.

“Yes, I most definitely will,” he says, and stands up. “And now we wait to see if Lord Iwaizumi’s letter is as good as ours.”

“Yes,” Sawamura smiles. “Now we wait.”

-

####  _Reply_

_Hope and apprehension are two sides of the same coin._

-

It takes two weeks to receive a response from Aoba Johsai.

In the meanwhile, Kuroo had only seen the Marquess a couple of times when he was asked to join him for dinner, which wasn’t surprising considering he was a busy man. But he did manage to completely ingratiate himself with the domestic staff at Karasuno manor.

It was fairly easy, considering he ate with them morning, noon, and night, and was a good conversationalist. The cooks and kitchen maids adored him about as much as he adored them, and he was happy to tell them about the letters he’d written, sharing some poignant love stories and some hilarious ones. The men also listened with rapt attention, asking him to talk about all the different places he’d travelled to as a Doll, and he gladly obliged them as well. 

When the letter from Lord Iwaizumi arrives at Karasuno manor, the servants are abuzz with curiosity but they keep a fairly low profile. Kuroo’s sure they’ll grill him about it at mealtime, but for now he takes his typewriter and makes his way to the Marquess’s office, eager to find out what sort of response they’d gotten.

The Marquess is leaning on the desk next to Kuroo’s chair when he enters. It looks like he’s just returned from the stables, wearing riding boots and gear, but he looks pristine. Kuroo wonders how he does it.

“Hello,” he greets him, and his warm smile has Kuroo instinctively smiling back.

“I heard you received a letter from a certain someone.” Kuroo notices that his side of the desk has been completely cleared, and he puts his bag right on the table. “How was it? Have you read it yet?”

“I was waiting for you to join me,” the Marquess replies, leaning back and retrieving the envelope and a finely carved letter opener from the top of a tall stack of papers. “I thought it might be good to read it together so I can get your insights on the quality of the letter.”

“My, Lord Sawamura, it almost seems like you want to see if our letter is better.”

“A little bit of competition is healthy, wouldn’t you say?”

Kuroo laughs and waits for the Marquess to open the envelope. Once he does, he skims over it quickly before handing the paper to Kuroo.

Kuroo frowns immediately. The paper is fine, much finer than the one they had used, and it's written in an immaculate hand—one that he’s sure he recognises. 

“They’re trying to one-up _us_ ,” he mutters, rubbing the thick, ivory sheet between his fingers as he skims through the contents.

They had responded adequately to their message, and had included some questions of their own. It’s pleasant for the most part, polite and friendly, but borders on flirtatious occasionally—something about the phrasing of the line inviting Lord Sawamura to see their gardens just makes it seem like an innuendo, but he decides not to comment on it in case the other hadn’t noticed. Kuroo reads through it for the second time, and there’s no doubt about it—the tone, the handwriting, the pinprick tittles on the i’s and j’s and machine-like uniformity of the descenders—Kuroo’s sure he knows who the writer is. This meant Aoba Johsai were also using a Doll, and he says as much.

Sawamura hums in thought. “Well, I suppose I can’t be surprised. Both of us want this to go well, after all.”

“What do you think though? About the letter?”

“It’s very sweet,” the Marquess says, taking the letter from Kuroo’s hands and reading through it again. “Even if he used a Doll, the letter still feels very much like him.”

“Ah,” Kuroo says, watching the emotions play across the other man’s face. For someone so high in the political echelons, the Marquess was surprisingly open, almost to a fault. Kuroo had no doubt it endeared him to many, but he also wondered if it had gotten him in trouble. 

“You sound sceptical,” the Marquess laughed. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I suppose it’s because I don’t know the Marquess of Aoba Johsai, but for all the pleasantry, the letter seemed… somewhat bland, I suppose.”

“One could say the same about mine.”

“No,” says Kuroo almost a bit too vehemently. Lord Sawamura raises his eyebrows at him, and Kuroo shrugs. “I’m not blowing my own horn my Lord, since I merely took your words and polished them a little, but I do think your letter was more sincere and _warm_. You put care into your questions and you sounded genuinely eager to get to know him better. This letter is pleasant, and as I mentioned, I’m not knowledgeable about the Marquess’ personality so maybe it’s just that, but somehow I don’t see _emotion_ in the letter. And besides,” he huffs, “he didn’t give you a single compliment. You complimented him _thrice_!” He holds up three fingers and shakes them right in the Lord’s face for emphasis. “You gave him _three_ lovely compliments about his successes, and he couldn’t give you a single one back? Not a single one?” 

Kuroo throws both his hands up before folding them against his chest, feeling somewhat better now that he’s finished ranting. 

A moment passes in silence before Kuroo sighs and bows his head. “That was beyond impolite. Forgive me, Lord Sawamura.”

Much to his surprise, the Lord simply throws his head back and laughs. “I am thankful that you want to protect my honour, Kuroo,” he says, wiping his eyes. “But compliments don’t work like that. You shouldn’t have to give someone a compliment just because they gave you one.”

“No,” Kuroo agrees, shaking his head. “But it’s a very nice thing to do. And besides, it’s not like he has to think hard to come up with a compliment for you.”

The Lord’s smile softens into something curious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes, somewhat miffed. “You’re a respected Marquess, your political and martial accomplishments are many, and you’re—” he stops short of saying ‘gorgeous’, just in time.

The Marquess leans in. “I’m…?”

“You’re a good man,” he says weakly.

“That’s not what you were really going to say, was it?”

“No, that was it,” Kuroo manages to say it with more conviction. “The crux of the issue is that you’re an easy person to compliment, and he didn’t.”

The Marquess laughs softly and leans back, looking at the letter again. “Hajime has always been a reserved person,” he says, voice soft, gaze fond. Kuroo feels like an intrusive presence. “I’m not surprised his letter is the way it is. I’m actually a little surprised at the invitation to the gardens, it sounds… suggestive.”

Kuroo coughs to cover his chuckle. “I think that may have been the Doll’s influence.”

“You might be right. In any case, I think it’s a nice letter, even if you don’t seem to be of the same opinion.”

“Well, as long as you are happy, my Lord, that’s all that matters. My opinion doesn’t count.”

The Marquess frowns a little at that, like he wants to deny Kuroo’s words, but Kuroo begins to set up the typewriter to get started on their reply. 

“Alright, Lord Sawamura, shall we write your _Hajime_ a love letter?”

The other man flushes pink, but shoots Kuroo a severe look that doesn’t relent until Kuroo snickers out an apology.

“He’s not _my_ anything,” the Marquess huffs, still somewhat pink but more or less composed.

“Not _yet_ , you mean?”

The Marquess goes fully pink again, and Kuroo lets himself cackle.

-

####  _Laughter_

_Friendships are inevitable when food and stories are shared._

-

In the month and a half that Kuroo’s been at Karasuno Manor, they have exchanged three letters with Aoba Johsai. The third—and latest—saw the Marquess of Aoba Johsai abandoning a formal address, instead opening with “Dearest Daichi.” Lord Sawamura went so red Kuroo thought steam was going to pour from his ears.

“We have to respond in kind,” he urged, grinning from ear to ear. “Tell me, what is your preferred term of endearment?”

“My-my what?” Sawamura sputtered, Iwaizumi’s letter clutched in both hands. “Why?”

“Because we can’t start with ‘Hello Hajime’ now, can we?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Hello Hajime?”

Kuroo ignores him and starts typing, reciting his words out loud. “My… sweet… Hajime…”

“What?”

“I received… your lovely… letter… and it made me… no, it made my heart… burst…”

“Kuroo!”

“Fine, fine.” Kuroo snickers and starts a new line. “We will still start with ‘My sweet Hajime.’”

Sawamura looks harried but gives in with a resigned sigh. 

“Alright then,” Kuroo nods in satisfaction and resumes typing. “My sweet Hajime… thank you… for the lovely letter. I hope things… on your end are excellent… because you… only deserve the best—”

“Kuroo!!”

“What?!” Kuroo grins at him. “What is it?”

Lord Sawamura folds his arms across his chest and gives him a deadpan look. “That’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“No, Lord Sawamura, that’s barely anything.” Kuroo leans forward and tries to convince him by looking deep into his eyes. Sawamura merely laughs.

Kuroo laughs with him.

He thinks he understands the Marquess a little bit better with each week that he spends with him.

He’s a man that takes no nonsense, but indulges his staff’s requests whenever he can. He cares for his household and the people in his march, and they in turn respect and care for him. He’s honest and tactful and adept at handling complicated political issues, but the mere mention of his courtship turns him into a flustered mess.

Kuroo’s charmed, and he wants to know even more.

“Kuroo, I know you’re the expert here,” Lord Sawamura says, steepling his fingers. “But I don’t think this is really… me.”

“My Lord,” Kuroo smiles patiently. “You can come across as dashing and romantic, or like a boring stick in the mud.”

“But—”

“Look, you _are_ romantic, don’t try to deny that. But you’re also very reserved about it. How will he know the real you if you don’t express yourself well?”

“But—”

“You hired me for a reason,” Kuroo insists. “Let me do my job.”

At the start of his contract, Kuroo would not have imagined being able to speak so casually and flippantly to the Marquess, but if he’d learned anything else about the man apart from his stalwart nature, it was that he much preferred people to be as straightforward as he was.

 _“There’s no time or point in mind games or roundabout words”_ he’d said, when he noticed Kuroo was trying very hard to disagree politely. _“Just say what you want to say.”_

They have a small staring contest that Kuroo wins, and he gleefully begins composing the letter. Once it’s done, he pulls the sheet out the machine and hands it over.

Sawamura reads it, with a frown on his face that waxes and wanes but never leaves. 

“Do you not like it?”

“I think it’s good,” he replies, but still looks dissatisfied.

“What’s wrong then?”

“Just—this ‘Sweet Hajime’ part—”

“No.”

“It just feels so—”

“No, we’re not changing that, Lord Sawamura.”

The marquess covers his face with his hands. “But it’s so intimate!”

Kuroo bursts into laughter at the petulant tone. “Yes! You’re courting him, it’s supposed to be intimate!”

“Doesn’t it seem _too_ intimate?”

“No, I think it’s an appropriate amount of intimate. Also, addressing anyone as ‘my sweet’ is bound to fluster them. Don’t you want to do that?”

Sawamura comes out of hiding. “That’s not a real thing, is it?”

“It absolutely is a real thing.”

“So,” he smirks, and Kuroo feels mildly threatened. “If I called you ‘Sweet Kuroo’…”

Kuroo’s eyes widen in shock and now it’s his turn to hide his cheeks as they burn at the endearment. “That’s not fair play, Lord Sawamura!”

The Marquess simply laughs, loud and uninhibited, and while Kuroo wants to be angry that his little tactic was used against him, he really can’t find it in himself.

“Oh goodness, it _is_ a real thing,” Sawamura chortles, slapping the table a couple of times. “You went _so_ red!”

“See I told you it would work on anyone,” Kuroo retorts, nose in the air. “I know what I’m talking about.”

“Alright, I suppose this letter is fine, then.”

Kuroo grins brightly and puts a new paper in his typewriter to finish up a polished draft. “Good.” 

-

In between the fourth letter and the fifth, Kuroo spends a lot of time doing whatever chores he can help with, much to the chagrin of the house staff who insist that guests shouldn’t help. Kuroo grins and helps them anyway.

It also leaves him with a lot of time to not think of anything in particular, and he finds his thoughts straying toward the Marquess, wondering what serious affairs he was attending to today, what problems he was helping to solve. Kuroo sometimes catches glimpses of him during the day, cutting an impressive figure in his riding boots and fine clothes as he walks to the stables or to wherever else he needs to be. 

Kuroo always waves when he sees him, and the Marquess always waves back, and his smile warms Kuroo’s soul like sunshine.

-

“Mind if I join you?”

Kuroo looks up at the question and finds a man with silver hair and a good-natured smile looking at him, a tray of pastries in his hand.

Kuroo indicates to the empty seat next to him. “Please, feel free. I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve met?”

The man laughs. “No we haven’t, and that’s my fault, sorry. I’m Sugawara Koushi, the estate manager. Call me Suga.”

Kuroo nods and extends his hand. “I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, the Auto Memories Doll.”

“Yes, I’ve heard,” says Suga, taking a bite out a pastry and pushing the tray toward Kuroo. “So how goes the letter-writing Mr. Doll?”

Kuroo picks one up and takes a small bite. It tastes wonderful. “It’s going well, I think.”

“That’s it? You have to give me more than that! What’s lord Iwaizumi like in the letters? What do they talk about?”

“I can’t tell you that information, it would be a breach of my contract.” 

“Aw, alright then.” Suga hums for a moment before his smile turns impish. “So, how do you like the Marquess?”

Kuroo blinks. “Excuse me?”

“Has he been giving you a hard time? Has he been fussing about everything and refusing all your advice? Has he been grumpy and non-cooperative?”

“Suga, stop harassing poor Kuroo,” the head cook cuts in, taking a pastry from the tray as he walks by. 

“But Mr. Takeda, I was merely asking him a few questions,” Suga protested. 

“Sure, sure.” Takeda chuckles, and joins them at the table. “Though I must admit I’ve been quite curious as well. How do you like the Marquess? I saw you in the library with him yesterday.”

“And I noticed he took you riding a few days ago,” Suga cuts in, resting his cheek on his palm. “Did you have a good time?”

Kuroo feels like he’s in enemy territory with nothing to take cover behind. 

“Lord Sawamura has been very kind to spend time with me and keep me occupied,” he says, eyes darting between the two men looking at him with pleasant smiles. “He’s a good man. I’m very glad I’m helping him with the letters.”

“Good,” Suga chuckles. “He needs all the help he can get. That man does not have a romantic bone in his body.”

“Actually,” Kuroo says, and Suga’s eyes glint with interest like the tip of a sniper’s rifle in the moonlight. “I think it was quite romantic of him to suggest the courtship in the first place.”

“Is that so!” Suga smiles widely, leaning forward. “What did he say about the courtship, exactly?”

Kuroo leans back. “He… I’m sorry, I don’t feel comfortable discussing this with you without the Marquess’s knowledge.”

“What about my knowledge?” comes a voice behind them, and Kuroo almost falls off his chair in panic.

Suga however remains completely unruffled. “Hello, my lord,” he says, smiling beatifically. “Mr. Doll was just telling me the courtship was your idea.”

The Marquess visibly pales. Kuroo sinks slightly in his chair.

After some throat clearing, Sawamura composes himself. “Ye-yes, it was my idea.”

“Then why, pray tell, are the rest of us under the assumption that it was Aoba Johsai’s idea?”

Kuroo creeps lower.

“Alright, look,” Sawamura says, pulling up a chair and sitting down next to Takeda. “Look. Iwaizumi’s parents wanted him married at the start of the year. Neither of us were ready for that, and especially not him, because he had so much to do, with them being one of the more heavily affected regions. So I—”

“So you suggested this farce to buy him time?” Suga cuts in, looking displeased.

Kuroo sinks even lower till he’s almost half a head shorter than everyone at the table, and tries not to let it get to him to hear his work be called a _farce_.

“It’s _not_ a farce,” Daichi says, and it’s the most serious Kuroo has ever seen him. “We’re not doing anything wrong or deceitful. We’re doing this with the intent to get to know each other better. I like Hajime, and he likes me. I think it’s the smart thing to do.” And then, after a beat, “He is a fine man.”

Suga snorts. “You don’t have to remind me of _that_.”

Takeda hides his chuckles and even the Marquess laughs a little. The tension dissipates and Kuroo sits up with a sigh.

“Poor Kuroo, I think we gave him a bit of a scare,” Takeda says, patting his shoulder in sympathy.

“I wouldn’t have let any harm come to you, Mr. Doll, don’t worry.” Suga smiles reassuringly at him before turning around to give Sawamura the stink eye. “I would never have grilled him if someone just answered my questions in the first place.”

The marquess rolls his eyes. “I didn’t want to because you would have bullied me.”

“Of course I would have bullied you!” Suga smacks Sawamura on his back hard enough to make him drop the pastry he was just about to eat. “We have a secret romantic on our hands!”

Lord Sawamura groans and covers his face with his hands, but he’s smiling.

-

####  _Quietude_

_Great people, like great soup, are warm, hearty and fulfilling._

-

Over the course of his stay in the manor, he’s invited to go riding with the Lord multiple times. Kuroo always accepts, and they take two of Sawamura’s fine steeds to ride through the surrounding farmlands. Kuroo travels a lot, but he doesn’t often get the chance to ride on horseback, so he enjoys himself a great deal.

But what he enjoys more than getting to frolic with the horses is getting to spend time with the Marquess.

Because Kuroo’s almost certain he’s crossed over from fond, platonic admiration into something decidedly… not platonic.

Kuroo loves all his clients in a way. How can he not, when he knows the enormous amount of trust they place in him? To trust him enough to bare their deepest feelings, to trust in his skills to convey the depth of that feeling adequately? Every person he has written a letter for has a special place in his heart.

This isn’t that, because when he sits down to write these letters, he isn’t thinking of how happy the other person will be to receive the letter. All he can think of is making the Marquess happy, to tease him till he flusters and gives in to whatever petty insistence Kuroo has at the moment. He wants to bask in his warm gaze and hear his heartfelt laughter, and he wants to listen to his baritone voice murmur sweet nothings in his ears. 

Kuroo knows he’s fucked up beyond repair. He knows quite a few Dolls that fell in love with their clients, and went on to marry said clients.

But he’s probably the only Doll stupid enough to fall for a client who _he is helping_ to court _another_ person.

Kuroo sighs and heads to the library, hoping to find a book or two to distract him from his heavy thoughts.

It’s late enough that Kuroo decides it better to take a candle than turn on the electric lights and cause a disturbance to anyone.

He walks down the halls in his pyjamas, figuring even if someone saw him in his nightclothes it would be fine. The house is quiet save for the creaking of wood, and Kuroo finds it odd to walk in silence where there would usually be chatter and noise.

When he gets to the library, he’s surprised to see some light in it already. He cautiously hides himself behind a bookshelf to peer at the visitor.

“Lord Sawamura?” he asks, and ducks when something comes flying at him.

“Oh goodness, Kuroo! I’m so sorry!!” 

“They weren’t kidding when they said you had excellent aim,” Kuroo chuckles, walking over to pick up the book that would have absolutely nailed him right in the nose.

“And lucky for you, you have excellent reflexes,” Sawamura replies, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Apologies again. I wasn’t expecting anyone to still be awake.”

“I’m sorry for startling you as well.” Kuroo hands the book back and tries not to let his eyes linger on the little triangle of clavicles and chest exposed by the open collar of Sawamura’s pyjama shirt. 

Sawamura takes the book and goes back to his chair. He motions for Kuroo to join him at the table. “What’s keeping you up?”

Kuroo sets the candle down. “Hm?”

“I’m assuming you’re only here because you couldn’t sleep either,” he says, propping his chin in his hand. “Is there something bothering you?”

“Nothing in particular,” Kuroo lies. “What about you? What has you sitting in the library in the dark?”

Sawamura rubs his face. “The ball is coming up.”

“Ah.” The ball, when Lord Iwaizumi would be meeting Sawamura for the first time since their courtship started. Kuroo grasps at straws for conversation. “I thought Mr. Sugawara would be the one planning it?”

“Suga has all the planning handled, but that’s not really what’s bothering me.”

“I see.”

“Is it silly for me to be nervous?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Kuroo reaches out to play with the candle flame. “It’s not silly to be nervous because you want something to do well.”

“It’s not that,” Sawamura reaches out and pushes his finger away from the flame, and pauses. “Is… what happened to your hand?”

“I was in the army,” Kuroo shrugs, and burns to know what it feels like to have Sawamura’s bare fingers on his skin. “There was an accident. So they gave me this metal arm.” He lifts his sleeve to show off where it's attached to his upper right arm, and wiggles his fingers. “It’s fine, but I can’t do things that require precision work.”

“Where were you stationed?” Sawamura asks, continuing to rub the tip of one of Kuroo’s metal fingers with one of his own. “How old were you?”

“I was out in the south. Near Shiratorizawa, almost. And I was 20, when it happened.” 

In the candle light, the sadness on Marquess’s face grips Kuroo’s chest like a vice. 

“It's such a long time ago, don’t worry about it,” he chuckles, daring to lay his other hand on top of Sawamura’s. “Why do you look like it was your fault it happened?”

Sawamura shakes his head but doesn’t move his hand. “You were so young.”

“Many of us were really young. You were, as well.” Kuroo shrugs. “It’s not right, but war never is.” 

He smiles a small, sad smile. “You’re a remarkable man, Kuroo.” 

The back of Kuroo’s neck goes hot. “I could say the same about you too.”

Silence descends on them but they make no move to disturb it. Kuroo is still holding on to Sawamura’s hand, eyes focused on the small movement of his thumb as he strokes Kuroo’s metal knuckles over and over again, till Kuroo’s sure he can feel a spot of warmth there.

“You never did say why you were nervous,” he says after a while, finally lifting his gaze to the Marquess’ face. 

“Huh? Oh, it’s… it’s nothing.”

“You’re a really bad liar, my Lord.

Sawamura chuckles softly and takes his hand back. “I’m not worried about the meeting with Iwaizumi not going well. I just. I don’t… I don’t know if I would be particularly upset if it doesn’t. It feels like I should be more concerned than that.”

Kuroo curls his hands into loose fists. “You like him, don’t you?”

Sawamura shrugs. “I do. I do like him.”

“It’ll be alright,” Kuroo says. “You will meet him, and you will both realize you are a perfect match for each other and get married. And I’ll get to brag that I was instrumental in helping your beautiful romance flourish.” 

That get a few chuckles out of him, and Kuroo smiles. 

“You have a way with words, Kuroo.”

“Considering my profession, I sure should!” Kuroo laughed. 

Sawamura stands and stretches. “I think I should get to bed now, and you should too.”

“No, I think I might stay for a little bit longer. I’m not too sleepy anyway.”

“Alright then, I’ll leave you to it,” Sawamura says, taking his shawl off his shoulders and draping it over Kuroo’s. “Goodnight, Kuroo.” He smiles, and with a pat on his shoulder, turns and leaves.

Kuroo sits in stunned silence for a minute before he tugs the soft silk tighter around himself. It feels warm as a hug and smells like paper and sandalwood.

-

####  _Yearning_

_It’s still foolishness if you know you are being foolish._

-

Kuroo stands a little off to the side in the viewing gallery, hidden behind a curtain that’s pulled aside and secured with a thick, golden tie.

The ballroom has been decorated beautifully, with the ornate chandelier twinkling away merrily in the centre of the ceiling and flower arrangements on the walls and tables.

Kuroo only recognises a couple of the guests, but he can tell everyone in the hall is someone important. He knows this not only because of their clothes but also how they carry themselves, with confidence and poise and in some cases, an astounding amount of self-importance.

He sips his wine and continues to survey the room, looking for Lord Sawamura until he finds him in the centre of a crowd, regal in his navy blue uniform. His field of vision is consumed by the sight of him, his warm smile and handsome face. Light glints off the buttons on his coat, and his epaulettes shimmer with the movement of his broad shoulders as he laughs.

Someone new enters the room and the crowd parts obligingly for them, and Kuroo can tell right away who it is when they make a beeline straight to Lord Sawamura.

Lord Iwaizumi of Aoba Johsai is a handsome man, built just as solidly as the man he was courting, filling out his dark green uniform almost too well.

Kuroo tries not to let his covetous longing show on the outside when he watches the precise moment when Sawamura registers Iwaizumi’s presence, going completely still until the other lord reaches him. 

A chuckle inadvertently spills out of his mouth as he watches the two men try to negotiate a hug and then settle for a handshake. Both of them are flustered, but they laugh it off, and settle into a conversation with the people around them.

And even from where he's standing, Kuroo can tell the obvious attraction between them.

“Well look who it is,” says a very familiar voice behind him.

Kuroo spares a backward glance before re-focusing on the two men below. “Ah, so it _was_ you.”

“Of course it was me,” Oikawa says, sauntering to stand next to Kuroo. He swirls his wine glass and looks down at where Kuroo is looking. “You should know by now, no one writes a script neater than mine.”

“So that line in the first letter about the gardens—that was all you wasn’t it?”

“Guilty as charged,” Oikawa snickers, but his eyes are fixed on the couple below, and there’s no mirth in them.

Kuroo can tell right away that Oikawa is in the same boat as him, and feels a flicker of sympathy.

“The Marquess of Karasuno is plainer than I expected.”

Kuroo’s annoyance flares, and his sympathy is quickly forgotten. “Maybe he’d look better if you took off those green-tinted glasses you’re wearing.”

Oikawa turns to give him a frigid glare, but his lips quirk up maliciously. “That’s awfully rich coming from someone who’s so bitter I can smell it.”

“At least I don’t stand here and make disparaging remarks about the other person.”

“Fuck off, Kuroo.”

Kuroo gives him his own cruel smirk. “Why are you so angry when you’re the one that did something stupid in the first place? You have nothing to be mad at but yourself.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Oikawa snaps, but he is as sad as he is angry. “I didn’t plan for it to happen.”

“Who ever _plans_ to fall in love?”

They stand in irritated silence for a while. Oikawa is the first to break the stalemate.

“How aren’t you upset?”

Kuroo blinks, not having expected that question. “What is there to be upset about? I knew what the circumstances were. I liked him anyway. I’m not expecting anything to come of it. Being upset isn’t going to help my cause. It’s just going to interfere with work.”

“How can you just _say_ that,” Oikawa huffs. “Don’t you want to—”

“We’re _Dolls_ , Oikawa,” Kuroo cuts in before he says the unthinkable. “We are here to fulfil a duty. We are hired to perform a service, and we leave when our jobs are done. You cannot let your personal bias interfere with your letters.”

“I’m a professional, Kuroo. Don’t insult me by insinuating that I would botch my letters for personal gain. Let me finish my bloody sentences.”

Kuroo doesn’t apologize. Oikawa stews in silence till he opens his mouth again.

“I hate this,” he says, voice uncharacteristically somber. “I wish I’d never accepted this assignment.” 

Kuroo hums, thinking about it. “Oddly enough, I think I’m happy that I did.” His eyes find Sawamura in the crowd again, where he’s having an animated conversation with Iwaizumi. They look like they’re enjoying themselves, which Kuroo is happy about for the most part. “I’m… glad I got to meet someone so special.”

“You’re a damn masochist, is what you are.”

Kuroo chuckles in response because he can’t really argue with that.

“At least they seem to be getting on well and our work wasn’t all in vain.” Oikawa snickers. “Imagine after all we did the last couple of months they can’t stand each other in person. That would have been a bloody shame.”

Kuroo lets himself join in. “Oh god, that would be terrible,” he chortles. “We’d be writing the most _awkward_ thank you notes tomorrow. I’m glad they’re getting along at least so I don’t have to think of how to deal with _that._ ”

They smile as they look at their respective clients. Kuroo is happy, but he is also sad. He hates it. 

But he _is_ happy that he got to meet Sawamura Daichi. He doesn’t think he can ever be upset about that.

“Looks like they’re going to start dancing,” Oikawa says, and Kuroo hums when he notices the musicians setting up in the corner of the room. 

“I wonder what kind of music they play in these types of uppity events.”

Their question is answered soon enough when a pleasant, bouncy tune starts playing. The two lords turn to each other, and Iwaizumi holds a hand out that Sawamura takes. Kuroo can’t see his face but he knows he’s blushing and smiling that pleased smile of his, the one that shows the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that Kuroo always wants to kiss away.

Oikawa huffs and turns his nose up at them, and it makes Kuroo laugh. 

“Don’t be such a petty bastard,” he says, and it is as much a reminder for him as it is for Oikawa. 

“I can be whatever I want,” Oikawa says with a sneer, but he can see he’s mostly joking. “Do you want to dance?”

Kuroo drains his glass in one long gulp. “Why the hell not. Let’s go make merry.”

-

They don’t actually go down till more people join in. Kuroo breaks away from Oikawa to go say a quick hello to Sawamura and leaves immediately. Oikawa rolls his eyes when he returns and Kuroo chooses to ignore him. They dance with each other, but their lingering resentment means they get competitive enough that Oikawa starts actively trying to trample his foot and Kuroo takes every opportunity to jab him with his metal elbow. When Oikawa kicks his shin, Kuroo decides it best to split and dance with other partners. Oikawa gets more invitations than Kuroo does, so Kuroo stands off to the side drinking more wine as Oikawa prances around in his outfit that toes the line between being garish and stylish. 

As the night passes, some of the house staff join in the dancing as well, and Kuroo obliges anyone that asks, dancing with Miss Michimiya, Noya, Mr. Takeda and Mr. Azumane. Oikawa asks Miss Shimizu to dance and she turns him down, which Kuroo liberally teases him about. They dance together again, the good wine making it easy to forget that they were cattily trying to break each others’ feet/ribs only a couple hours prior.

Oikawa flops his head on Kuroo’s shoulder. “It’s not fair,” he mumbles into Kuroo’s collar. “It’s not fair.”

Kuroo rests his chin on the crown of his head. 

“It’s not,” he says, and even now he looks for Sawamura’s face in the crowd. He catches a glimpse of him across the hall. 

Sawamura turns and their eyes lock. They smile at each other for a fleeting moment before he turns away.

Kuroo casts his own gaze downward, where Oikawa’s hand is wrinkling his waistcoat.

“We’ll get over it. Stop being a diva,” he teases.

“Are you really not upset?”

He laughs softly and presses his chin down on Oikawa’s head till he hisses in pain. “You’re an idiot if you have to ask that question.”

-

####  _Enquiry_

_A heart must be brave if it wishes to be worn on a sleeve._

-

Kuroo wakes up in the morning with a slight headache. 

He loiters in his room for a bit before he goes down to the servants’ hall for lunch, and isn’t surprised to find it quieter than usual. He walks into the kitchen for some coffee and doesn’t find any, but does get a cup of Mr. Takeda’s excellently brewed tea.

“Hello Kuroo,” the man says, putting a spoonful of sugar into Kuroo’s cup and adding some honey to his own. “Did you have fun at the dance last night?”

“It was a good time,” he responds, slowly stirring the liquid and taking an appreciative whiff. “Do you have parties like that often?”

“No, usually we only have them for the noble family’s birthdays, but even those have become fewer in recent years.”

“Must be a lot of work to put together something like that.”

Takeda laughs. “It is, but it’s worth it, to see so many happy faces. And anything that makes the lord happy is no bother to us.”

Kuroo smiles at the fond tone in his voice. “Everyone really does love him.” And then, despite his good judgement, he asks, “What does everyone think of the Marquess of Aoba Johsai?”

The older man gives him a funny little look that Kuroo can’t quite place. “Everyone likes him, I think. His staffers seem to genuinely like him, and that’s always a good indication, though to be fair Lord Sawamura is an excellent judge of character, so if he chose to court Lord Iwaizumi we can safely say he is a wonderful person.”

“That’s good!”

“What did _you_ think, Kuroo?”

Kuroo gingerly takes a sip of his tea. “They both looked to be having a good time yesterday, so I’m happy the letters worked.”

“Yes, yes.” He takes a sip of his own tea. “Sugawara said you looked a little down yesterday.” His voice is hesitant, and he looks at Kuroo with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I didn’t even _see_ him yesterday, how did he see me?”

Takeda laughs. “You know him, he’s sharp like that.”

“You don’t say.”

“Are you avoiding my question, lad?”

Kuroo’s shoulders stiffen involuntarily at the call out. “I’m fine, Mr. Takeda, why wouldn’t I be?”

He looks at him searchingly for a moment before he sighs. “Well, if you’re sure, then I’ll leave it at that.”

Kuroo looks for his reflection in his cup of tea but doesn’t see anything. If Takeda noticed his mood, the Marquess definitely would. 

He sighs and rubs his eyes tiredly. He just needs to see this day through.

-

If Kuroo thought he was spaced out, Lord Sawamura is _worse_.

He’d met him in his office as per usual, to finish the note thanking Iwaizumi for coming to the ball.

But at the rate they’re progressing, Kuroo can tell they’re not going to get as much as a line down. He watches as the Marquess continues to nod in agreement when Kuroo had finished talking a minute ago. 

Even when he knows Sawamura is daydreaming about his previous evening with Iwaizumi, he feels a fresh swell of warmth in his chest for him. “Perhaps it is not my place,” he says softly, folding his arms on top of the table and leaning forward, “but would my lord mind telling me what has you so distracted?”

The Marquess blinks at this, clearly caught off guard. “No, it’s nothing,” he says, even though it’s quite painfully obvious that there’s definitely something.

Kuroo doesn’t press. “Alright then,” he says, but doesn’t make a move to start typing again.

Lord Sawamura fidgets some more before finally sighing in resignation. “Please forgive me if this is impudent, or none of my business, you have no need to answer,” he starts, not quite looking Kuroo in the eye. There are spots of colour high on his cheeks, and an uncharacteristic nervousness on his face. “But the man from Lord Iwaizumi’s entourage, the man you were dancing with yesterday—is that man your lover?”

Kuroo’s jaw actually drops open, and he stares for a moment in shocked silence before he covers his mouth with both hands to keep from dissolving into cackling laughter. “Oh my god, _no_ ,” he sputters, mouth stretching into a grin despite his best intentions. “That was Oikawa, Lord Iwaizumi’s Doll. He’s someone I know in a professional capacity, that’s all. I am not even sure if I can call him my friend.”

“Oh,” is all the Marquess has to say in return. “Oh, my apologies. That was an odd question.”

“It wasn’t terribly odd.” Kuroo shrugs and leans further forward. “Was Your Lordship so distracted because you wanted to know if I had a lover or not?”

“That’s not—no. Perhaps. I was merely curious.”

“That’s quite alright! I’m not offended or upset. I may even be a little bit flattered.”

“That’s… good? That’s good.”

The noble’s face flushes darker and Kuroo props his chin in the palm of his hand and prepares to tease him some more. “You seem particularly flustered this morning though. Are you sure that was all that was on your mind?”

Luckily for the Marquess, Noya comes in at that exact moment to fetch him for estate business.

Unluckily for Kuroo, he’s left all by his lonesome.

He takes the time to read over some of the previous correspondence they had received from the Marquess of Aoba Johsai, trying to match the letters with the stoic, handsome man he’d seen last night, trying to feel something other than hollow envy at the memory of him holding Lord Sawamura and dancing together.

In the short span of time that he’d spoken to Sawamura yesterday, he’d heard Lord Iwaizumi call him _Daichi,_ the name formed perfectly by his stupid low voice and his stupid ruddy lips moving over his stupid perfect teeth. Kuroo tries the sounds out quietly, and his voice doesn’t have the same raspy timbre to it, and it makes him irrationally angry.

Daichi. He sounds it out once more. He likes the way it fits in his mouth. _Daichi_.

He’s never going to call the man that to his face. 

He sighs and puts the letters back down, managing to feel a smidgen of pride that he had in fact registered Oikawa’s specific flourishes right in the first letter.

He tries not to think about their topic of conversation from last night, but it keeps replaying in his mind—their shared frustrations, their biting remarks at each others’ hypocrisy. 

In the end they had no one to blame but themselves.

He tidies up the desk and packs his typewriter away, knowing they wouldn't get anything finished even if the Marquess came back before dinner. Kuroo’s heart wasn’t particularly in it. He looks in his notebook and confirms that his contract is indeed coming to a close in a few days. 

Soon he’d be headed back to Nekoma city, and he’d be able to nurse his wounded pride and wounded heart, far away from his mistakes with no one the wiser.

He picks up the book that Lord Sawamura had given him a few days ago because he’d remembered an offhand comment Kuroo had made about liking mystery novels with a bit of humor in them.

Kuroo isn’t going to take this book with him when he leaves, but he opens it anyway, figuring he might as well read it now that he has the time. 

He doesn’t realise how long he’s been there till someone knocks on the door, startling him enough that he reaches for a non-existent weapon. 

The door opens slowly, and he hears Kageyama’s voice. “Mr. Kuroo? Miss Michimiya told me to bring your meal to you. Where do you want me to set it?”

Kuroo goes to help him, but Kageyama only has one tray so he just indicates to the table. “You didn’t have to bring it up here, Kageyama.”

“It’s no trouble, sir,” he says, awkward as he ever was when he talked to Kuroo. “Miss Michimiya didn’t want to disturb you, but she also wanted to make sure you ate.”

“Thank you very much, and please thank her as well. I’ll bring the tray down to the kitchens myself.”

Kageyama simply nods and takes his leave, bustling out the door.

Kuroo sniffs appreciatively at the steam rising from the bowl. It’s his favourite kind of stew, and he wonders if Takeda made it just to cheer him up. 

Kuroo knows he’ll miss it when he leaves.

He’s in the middle of slathering a copious amount of butter on his bread when the door opens.

“You’re still here?”

Kuroo looks up, hands freezing as they are. “Oh, Lord Sawamura.” He smiles, not quite able to meet his eyes after thinking all those uncharitable thoughts about his love interest. “I got caught up reading, and Miss Michimiya was kind enough to make sure I was fed. I hope it’s alright that I stayed here?”

“Of course, it’s no bother.”

Kuroo focuses on his bread once again, slowly moving his knife till it’s covered in an even, thick layer of butter. He looks up to find the Marquess looking at him, expression inscrutable. “Is something the matter?”

“No, my apologies for staring,” he says shaking his head. Then he catches sight of Kuroo’s book and lights up with interest. “Were you reading the novel? How do you like it?”

Kuroo feels so, so warm when he sees how simple joy makes Sawamura brighten. “It’s very good. I got caught up and only put it down for Mr. Takeda’s cooking. Thank you very much for recommending it, I’m happy that you thought of me.”

The Marquess blushes and touches the bridge of his nose. “I’m very glad to hear that,” he says, and coughs slightly. “So, about the new letter…”

Ah, Kuroo thinks, feeling the warmth in his chest die down. Ah. The letters. Of course. “I’m dreadfully sorry, Lord Sawamura,” he says, bland smile frozen on his face. “I’m aware this is highly unprofessional, and not exactly how a Doll operates but—” he clears his throat “—I’m not feeling quite up to writing, right now. Would it be okay if we worked on it tomorrow?”

Lord Sawamura’s expression morphs into one of concern, dark brown eyes welling with sympathy and worry. “Of course, Kuroo, there’s no hurry. Are you alright? Should I send for the doctor?”

Kuroo shakes his head quickly. “No, there’s no need for that. I’m fine, just tired. Please don’t concern yourself with this.”

The worry doesn’t quite leave the furrows of the Marquess’ brows, but he doesn’t say anything. Kuroo eats in silence.

-

When Kuroo enters the Marquess’s office the next day, he’s surprised to find Sugawara there as well, pouring tea.

“Hello Kuroo,” he says brightly, setting a cup in front of Sawamura and another right next to where Kuroo’s typewriter would sit. “I heard you weren’t feeling well so I made you some herbal tea.”

“Why must I drink it too,” Sawamura complains, but Suga simply pushes his cup closer and closer till the man has no choice but to pick it up before it drops on his lap.

“Because you don’t have to be sick to drink herbal tea. Also the weather is changing so it doesn’t hurt to fortify your health in preparation.”

Kuroo chuckles at their familiar banter as he takes his place at the table. He sniffs at his cup and grimaces at the smell of… something. 

“Honey helps,” Sawamura says, and pushes the bottle toward him.

Kuroo pours in a few spoonfuls and takes a sip. “Not by much,” he says, grimacing. “Thank you though, Suga. I appreciate your care.”

“You’re very welcome,” Suga says. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to your tasks, then. Lord Sawamura, don’t forget what we talked about.”

“Yes, Suga, I won’t forget,” the Marquess drones. Suga grins at them before he picks up the tray and tea service and leaves. 

Kuroo snickers. “What did you do to displease him?”

“I… well.”

“What is it? Did something happen with Lord Iwaizumi?”

“I suppose you could say that.”

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “What? What happened?”

“We agreed to break it off.”

Kuroo gets quite a bit louder than he means to. “You did _what_?”

“I—”

“But why would you do that? What did he do?”

“Kuroo, calm down.”

“I— alright, I’m sorry,” he mutters, rubbing his face. 

“We talked about it, Hajime and I, and we decided it might be best if we remained friends and pursued the people our hearts actually wanted.”

The words make Kuroo angry. “If he’d found someone he was interested in, he should have made that clear as soon as he realised,” he spits, and wonders how Oikawa’s going to take _that_ news. 

“You’re always so quick to jump to my defence,” Sawamura chuckles. “But you have it wrong. The decision wasn’t completely one-sided. I also… have someone that I came to realise means enough to me that I want to court them, if they’re interested.”

Kuroo looks away and nervously fiddles with his fingers, unable to look at the man he loved talking to him about liking someone _else_ enough that he broke off a four-month-long courtship for them. “That’s wonderful then, isn’t it? The both of you have someone you like better.”

“Yes, I think it worked out for the best for both of us,” he says, and he sounds happy. “So, would it be alright if we terminated your contract early? I’ll still pay the complete fee of course, but you wouldn’t be obligated to stay at the manor anymore.”

“That’s fine,” Kuroo mutters, nodding numbly. “That’s perfectly fine.”

“So, erm, I was wondering, would you like to stay as my guest? And let me court you?”

Struck speechless, Kuroo finally looks at him.

“I wanted to say it better, but we both know pretty words aren’t my strong suit,” Sawamura says, smiling the smile that never failed to wreak havoc on Kuroo’s heart, as he comes around the table to gently cup his cheek. “I’m not wrong in assuming you like me as much as I like you, right?”

Kuroo launches himself right into his arms and kisses him. 

He cups Sawamura’s face in his hands and captures his lips, and they’re both smiling and it’s so wonderful Kuroo is sure he’s going to float right into the sky.

He pulls back and smiles giddily. “Yes!” he exclaims. “All of it, yes!” 

Sawamura laughs and pulls him closer. “Good,” he says, and presses kisses to Kuroo’s chin. “Good. I don't know what I’d have done if you refused.”

“You would have moped,” Kuroo grins, rubbing their noses together. “And we can’t have his Lord Marquess of Karasuno _moping_ , can we?”

“I don’t mope,” he complains, pressing their foreheads together. 

“I want courtship letters too,” Kuroo whispers. “And you have to write them yourself.”

Sawamura stares at him dumbfounded, and then he dissolves into laughter. “I’ll try my best to write you some satisfactory letters, Kuroo,” he says, brushing tears from his eyes. His smile is soft and it makes Kuroo’s heart hurt for an entirely different reason. “I am so happy that I hired you.”

“Me too.” Kuroo smiles, feeling his own eyes sting. “Me too.”

-

####  _Heart_

_Actions of love, like words of love, are gifts to be cherished._

-

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here it is. I tried my best, and I'm still not completely sure if I am satisfied with it. I wanted to make it cheesier but then I got stuck and didn't know how to without making it even longer than it currently is. My Dearest Finn, I hope you were still able to enjoy it anyway.
> 
> [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0DXNPjMxMAhhpQLTTSRNFk) is a link to a playlist full of very cheesy songs.  
> I actually wrote this listening to the [Violet Evergarden OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g12WAbw9PJY) on loop, which is lovely and played a big part in setting the tone for parts of the fic. 
> 
> Happy holidays, and I hope you have a wonderful new year! Find me on [Twitter!](http://twitter.com/itsairybro)


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